


Aphrodisiacs

by squishyturtlefuckfics



Series: Kinktober 2019 - Squishyturtlefuckfics [7]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Gay, Gay Sex, Gentle Sex, M/M, Mad Scientist Donatello, Scientist Donatello (TMNT), Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 03:57:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishyturtlefuckfics/pseuds/squishyturtlefuckfics
Summary: Drugs to trial. Tests to run. So little time.At least Donatello has the perfect subjects for his needs.Day 7 of Kinktober 2019, based on a prompt from a friend on tumblr.





	Aphrodisiacs

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7 contains aphrodisiacs and dubious consent, though the sex itself is gentle.

The room is dim, the light buzzing and flickering lazily above them. It's quiet, aside from the rumbles of the large beast in the corner, and the groggy murmurs of the brother beneath him.

"D...Donnie?"

Mikey looks up at him, groaning as Donatello depresses his syringe. There's a jolt, a little squirming and whining, before Mikey falls still again, head drooping down.

Donatello holds his cheeks. "Look at me."

He tilts his head upwards, smiling at the haze washing over those blue eyes. Michelangelo tries to speak to him then, but Donatello merely shushes the groggy mumbles, popping the needle out of his arm and wiping it down with a cloth.

A snort from the corner of the room. Donatello turns his head, then looks back at Mikey expectantly. Excitedly.

Reaching for his belt, Donatello retrieves a bottle of lube and squeezes a liberal amount onto his hand. There's no struggle as he grasps Michelangelo by the shell, easily tilting him backwards onto the bed and climbing up atop him, keeping his legs spread with a knee. His hand dips down, and he presses his fingers into Mikey, twisting and pushing them all around until his brother is nice and slick. He didn't want this to get messy.

Squirming. Whining beneath him. He grabs Mikey's cock once it's fully erect, giving it a few slick strokes just for good measure before he's done.

“D-Don…” Comes Mikey’s voice as he walks away, barely a whisper beneath the growing rumblings of the reptile in the corner. Donatello ignores it, stalking toward the door to tinker with the adjustments he’d been working on. An automatically activated internal lock: one that only opened from the outside, and only to a specific code he alone knew.

It seals behind him as he steps out into the lair, and Donatello practically skips back to his room. Once his door clicks locked, the turtle beelines to his computer, shoving a clutter of dusty books off his desk as he collapses into the chair. With the jab of a keystroke his screen bursts to life. Multiple camera angles scattered around a very familiar, very untidy room.

He reclines back in his chair, idly groping at his slit as the large, scaly hulk begins to move toward the bed, sharp, yellow eyes illuminated on the lenses of his cameras. Michelangelo just lies there, chest now heaving, as Leatherhead clambers up on top of him. There’s noise. Growling. An animalistic conversation.

The keyboard clicks. The scene changes. A clumsy display of coupling. Leatherhead trembling as he tries to push his cock into Mikey’s slickened hole. Mikey lazily petting his snout, whimpering, groping his cock.

Click.

At the foot of the bed, gazing right between the larger reptile’s legs. Donatello hums at the sight of his cock, and smirks at the sloppiness of his movements. Had he made Mikey a little too slick? Was that giving Leatherhead trouble?

He groans, fingers curling around his erection as Leatherhead finally finds his way inside. His speakers erupt into a chorus of lust and need. Mikey whimpering, Leatherhead purring as he begins his first set. Donatello leans forward on his chair, pulling up his timer and starting it with a click. He had at least six sessions to get through.

Something to note for next time.


End file.
